The Mystery of Roanoke Island
by FireStar2093
Summary: Rosa and her family live on Roanoke, this is her story though. They created the settlement, but what happened when Releigh came back? Vanished. All the colonists. Disappeared. Only two words to trace them: Cro and Croatoan. Where did they all go? Did the


Massacre at Roanoke

The arrow whizzed by the girl's ear, missing by only a hair. Maybe if that much, but maybe not at all. Though it missed overall, it did leave a small gash from a small piece of the arrow which just buzzed her ear. She lifted her hand to it, trying to postpone, or stop, the bleeding. No matter how hard she tried, she knew it wouldn't stop until she had time to wash it off. But now wasn't the time. It was war; but so far, massacre.

"Rosa!" a man screamed to her, waving at the same time. "Come here! Hurry!" She knew she wasn't going to be able to escape from her hiding spot, not yet. Signaling him that she couldn't, the man ducked behind a tree to wait for her. The man peeked out again from behind the tree a few seconds later. Now that Rosa had a better look at him, she could see his bloodied face.

"Are you okay, Alex!" she yelled to him.

"Yes…" his voice trailed off.

"No you aren't!" Taking that moment to look around her, Rosa saw the opening. She made a dash for the tree Alex stood behind. Being even closer, she could smell the reek of blood coming from him. The stench was overpowering, making her dizzy. She looked quickly around for something to grab onto. Seeing nothing, she slumped down against the tree.

She looked up to see Alex's puzzled look staring down at her.

"What?" she muttered.

"And you ask** me** if **I'm** okay. Ha." Alex chuckled.

"Sorry for being caring." she said with a sneer.

The scene around them got more bloody by the second. Dead corpses were strewn all around, puddles of red beside or under them. It looked like a storm of heavy red rain had pelted the ground, making it soak with the blood of the dead.

Alex stepped from behind the tree, a long pointed stick grasped tightly in his hand. He held it so tight, his knuckles started to turn white. He tilted his arm up and back, aiming carefully. Releasing the spear, it impaled an Indian, straight into the ground. Blood squirted from the wound. The Indian writhed on the ground for a few moments, then lay still. As she watched, black dots formed around Rosa's eyes. Then it consumed her. She fell unconscious on the floor next to the roots of the tree. She dreamed of earlier that day:

Rosa and her family, Alex, and their young son and daughter, Elysabeth (Ella for short) and Michal, were sitting around a nice fire. The dream became a nightmare soon after, the images changing into bloody objects. The fire was no longer fire, just a geyser of blood, spewing from the ground.

Rosa woke again quickly, letting out a scream. Thinking about the dream, she looked around and noticed it was no dream at all. It had all happened. The reality shocked her, making her sob. Her body trembled from the force of the cries. A warm hand gently touched her shoulder. Looking up again, she found herself staring directly into the eyes of her children, Michal and Ella.

She cried harder now, but from joy. Her children were safe but, what about Alex? She hadn't seen him since she woke up. "Where is your father?" she yelled above the now-raging battle.

"I don't know!" they replied, equally as loud, in unison.

"Well, we'll find him, I'm sure of it." Rosa said more quietly, trying to assure herself, more then the children.

Holding her torn dress at her knees, she ran past the arrows, spears, spike-pits, any thing that got in her way. The two children ran beside her.

She picked them up, and ran into the broken-in house. She grabbed an extra blade from under the decrepit bed, and spun it. Leaving Ella and Michal inside, she shut the door. A thumping sound came closer and closer.

Spinning around, she saw a man only a few fox-lengths away from her. She spun the blade up, slicing the man up the center of his torso. Blood spattered onto the ground, around his wound, and onto the blade. A moan of agony escaped his lips, then he fell, dead. A puddle of blood formed around the man slowly, some of it seeping into the ground. If she had stepped there, the blood would have come up from the ground, and onto her feet.

After carving "Croatoan" into a nearby tree, she walked back to the house, hoping Alex would be back by then. She knew if anyone saw her fighting, she would be disgraced. She could never show her face again.


End file.
